Moving Day
by somebody's world
Summary: "May I remind you that Aizen-sama did not give you permission to drink his wine?" Crackfic; Grimmjow x Ulquiorra


Don't ask where this came from. I don't even think _I_ know. This is one of the only oneshots I've ever written for a couple I don't ship, and it's also my first (finished) Bleach crackfic. But it _was_ pretty fun to write. :D Warnings: strong language, yaoi pairing (though nothing really dirty). Don't like, don't read.

Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters belong to Kubo... which is a good thing, considering I might do monstrous things like this to them if I owned them D:

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><p><strong>Moving Day<strong>

Manual labor was not Grimmjow's idea of a good time.

Sure, he respected Aizen (and, to be honest, Aizen was one of the few people he would not dare to cross even if he didn't), but nobody appreciated being treated like a slave. Grimmjow would have much preferred knocking around some of the weaker Arrancar to moving all of Aizen's shit into his new… office? headquarters? room?

_Lair_, Grimmjow decided as he set down a massive sealed plastic crate that he strongly suspected was full of very dense bricks, or maybe lead. Lair sounded sinister, and there was no way Aizen's plans for this room were innocent. Organized neatly in shelves were hundreds of dusty, ancient-looking books with titles like _Level 90+ Kidou_ and _The Ouken Theory_. A giant projection screen took up an entire wall, and Aizen's surveillance cameras offered him a view of probably a hundred different locations throughout Hueco Mundo, the Soul Society, and the World of the Living. There were a lot of very high-tech, scientific-looking instruments for which Grimmjow could only guess purposes; there were massive stacks of DVDs, each disc meticulously labeled with names, places, and dates; and, perhaps creepiest of all, there were human-sized tanks set along the far wall, most of which contained life-sized gigai in various states of disrepair.

Grimmjow was not frightened, repulsed, or even surprised by any of this. _To each his own_, he thought as he stared at one particularly grotesque gigai; it was naked and so completely burned that its flesh was starting to peel away in reddish-brown flakes in some of the more severely scalded areas.

Grimmjow massaged his aching arms. He was as strong as they came, but each one of the seventeen boxes he had carried up eight flights of stairs was roughly the weight of a small elephant. It was natural, he told himself, to be tired after such a feat; it was also, surely, acceptable to take a small break.

He sat down in the biggest and most comfortable-looking of the room's three chairs and leaned back into the cushioned headrest, crossing his arms casually behind his head. He felt suddenly rejuvenated. All the hesitance he had felt at the idea of taking a rest disappeared. He was Grimmjow, he could take a break whenever he pleased. Aizen be damned!

An unusual sense of restlessness overcame him, and he started to tap his feet against the floor. As he did so, the chair moved very slightly back and forth. Curiously he kicked off from the floor at an angle with his right foot, and the chair began to spin in a lazy circle.

It was fun in a very strange, unexpected kind of way, and it sure as hell beat going and getting more boxes, so Grimmjow began spinning the chair faster. Soon the room swirled by in a blur as the chair made tight, dizzying circles, and Grimmjow sat back in a disoriented stupor, grinning at this new perspective of the world.

A shape appeared in the blur, a giant brown square with a head, little patches of white and black and green.

"May I ask what in all hell you are doing?" a familiar voice asked. Grimmjow lifted his foot off the ground, and the chair slowly lost momentum. Grimmjow's view alternated between the bookshelves, the discarded gigai, the giant projector screen, and Ulquiorra setting down a large cardboard box and ripping a piece of clear tape off the top.

"That one isn't sealed with kidou?" Grimmjow asked, surprised, as the chair finally came to a stop facing Ulquiorra. Not sealing boxes with kidou meant curious Espada could look inside. And Grimmjow was nothing if not curious.

Ulquiorra stared back at Grimmjow, face expressionless as ever, and said, "Again, I ask, what are you doing in Aizen-sama's reiatsu-replenishing chair?"

"Reiatsu-replenishing chair?" Grimmjow poked the leather armrest. Come to think of it, he _did_ feel stronger. "So that's why I feel so good."

"Get up," Ulquiorra demanded impatiently, "and help me unpack these." He reached his hands into the cardboard box and pulled out two very old-looking bottles of wine.

Grimmjow realized then that he was very thirsty. And the vintage bottles looked like they contained some really tasty wine.

"Gimme some of that," Grimmjow ordered as he left his chair. Had its effects not remained even after he stood up, perhaps Grimmjow would have dismissed the idea as unwise. But a reckless sense of bravado had clouded his judgment, leaving consequences out of his thought process completely. Right now, he just wanted some wine.

Grimmjow grabbed a bottle from the neat row Ulquiorra had been making. "Got a corkscrew?"

Ulquiorra stared blankly at Grimmjow, which the latter correctly interpreted as a no. "Ah, fuck it." He pulled his sword out of its sheath at his hip and sliced the razor-sharp tip sideways into the cork.

"Don't do that," Ulquiorra advised as Grimmjow began to pull on the cork. "I don't think Aizen-sama will be very happy if you drink his wine."

"He won't even notice." Grimmjow pulled harder, but the cork seemed to be stuck. Really, it would have worked better with a corkscrew. "Ah shit - why won't this fucking thing -"

Ulquiorra grabbed the bottle and attempted to pull it away from Grimmjow. At that same moment, Grimmjow gave his most forceful tug yet, and the cork popped out, stuck to the end of sword.

The wine splashed all over the floor.

Ulquiorra quickly righted the bottle, but the damage was done. He stared from the bottle in his hand to the floor, where the red stain was blossoming out in all directions. "I am going to kill you," he said calmly to Grimmjow, who did not seem nearly as upset by the whole incident as he should have been.

Grimmjow dipped a finger into the puddle and brought it to his mouth, licking off the red liquid. "Delicious," he said, clearly unconcerned by the threat. "And you know that saying, 'it's no use crying over spilled wine.'"

"That would be 'spilled _milk_,'" Ulquiorra corrected him as he glanced around the room looking for something with which to absorb the wine. There did not appear to be anything remotely suitable. "Damn it, Grimmjow, aren't you concerned at all about the mess you made?"

"Mm-mmm." Grimmjow, who had now licked wine off each of his ten fingers, reached for the bottle.

"No." Ulquiorra held the bottle out of his reach. "We need to get this cleaned up -"

"'We'? You're the one who spilled it," Grimmjow reminded him. "I'll keep this bottle nice and safe while you go look for some towels."

Ulquiorra sighed. It took quite a lot to make him feel any sort of emotion, and right now he was on the verge of being annoyed. He set the bottle down, stood up, stripped off his white jacket, and threw it to the floor. The red stain soaked and seeped through it like dark blood. Ulquiorra very much hoped the "4" tattooed on his chest would put Grimmjow back in his place.

No such luck. "I didn't ask ya to strip," Grimmjow remarked as he grabbed the bottle a split second before Ulquiorra did. He took several deep gulps straight from the bottle, then - as if he didn't understand the absurdity of the gesture - he held the bottle out to Ulquiorra.

"You should try some," suggested Grimmjow. "It's good. Aizen doesn't buy cheap shit."

"May I remind you that Aizen-sama did not give you permission to drink his wine?" Ulquiorra said quietly.

"May I remind _you_ that you're going to get in trouble for it anyway?"

They stared at each other for a long moment before Ulquiorra took the bottle from Grimmjow. He sniffed the wine delicately - it _did_ smell rather good - and then took a small sip.

Then a larger sip.

His next drink could no longer be considered a sip.

The clinking of bottles in the background didn't register with Ulquiorra until seconds too late. By the time he looked down and realized that together they had drunk two-thirds of the bottle, Grimmjow had inserted his sword into another cork.

"Are you as stupid as you look?" Ulquiorra questioned. "Do you _want_ Aizen-sama to kill us?"

"Quit with the -sama shit, there are no surveillance cameras in Aizen's lair."

"Lair?"

"Yeah." The cork came out with a little less difficulty than the last time. "Sounds badass, right?"

Ulquiorra shook his head. "You are an incurable idiot."

"And _you_," Grimmjow said, pausing to take a swig from the second bottle, "are an arrogant bastard."

Ulquiorra knew he had two choices. Well, three, really. One, he could walk out now - jacketless - and inform Aizen that his Sexto Espada had found his stash of fine wine and would have it devoured within the hour if Aizen didn't put an end to this. Two, he could beat Grimmjow into a bloody pulp himself and hand his remains to Aizen, who may or may not be angry with Ulquiorra for taking matters into his own hands.

Three… he could stay and help Grimmjow drink the wine, then let Aizen deal with it all later. Aizen trusted Ulquiorra far more than he trusted Grimmjow; when it was only one Espada's word against another's, Ulquiorra had no doubt which of the two Aizen would choose to believe.

Ulquiorra made his decision and drained the rest of the bottle in his hand. "Arrogant bastard?" he challenged lightly. "I'd rather be that than a weakling like you."

"Oh ho, talking big now!" Grimmjow raised an eyebrow. "So you do have balls after all? And here I thought you were physically incapable of forming sentences that require any personal opinion behind them."

"Don't pick a fight with me. You will lose, and you know it." Ulquiorra tried unsuccessfully to pry the wine bottle out of Grimmjow's fingers. Instead of taking it by force and risking another spill, he placed a hand under the bottle and tilted it toward his mouth. Grimmjow's wrist tilted along with the bottle, and Ulquiorra began to drink.

"'The fuck do you think I am, your servant?" Grimmjow shouted disgustedly as he released the bottle. It only balanced on Ulquiorra's palm for a moment, tipping dangerously, before falling to the ground with a loud chink of glass against tile. The bottle didn't shatter, thankfully, but a good amount of wine splattered on the floor, not near enough to the other spill to be absorbed by Ulquiorra's jacket.

"- feeding you like giving a bottle to an infant, that's fucking gross -"

"GRIMMJOW!" Ulquiorra interjected, cutting off the other Espada's rant. "Take off your jacket!"

"What is this, a strip club?" Grimmjow retorted. "I'm not into that kinda thing."

"The wine is spreading, you idiot -"

"Well, maybe you should learn how to hold a wine bottle without spilling it all over the damn place!" Grimmjow snapped as he reluctantly shrugged out of his jacket and threw it on top of the second puddle.

"Maybe _you_ should learn to share," Ulquiorra countered as he picked up the second bottle and drained it.

Grimmjow made a disgusted noise and reached for a third and fourth bottle. He stabbed the cork of the third bottle with his sword. "You hold these steady, I'll get the corks out. Then we'll _both_ have one, and you won't have to make a mess stealing mine and spilling it again."

Ulquiorra had several very nasty retorts ready but said nothing as he placed a hand around each of the bottles. Grimmjow pried the first cork out, then the second, and they both reached for a bottle. Then, much to Ulquiorra's surprise, Grimmjow held his bottle in the air between them and grinned. "A toast," he said dramatically. "To Aizen!"

Personally Ulquiorra wondered if Grimmjow had already had enough to drink, but he raised his bottle anyway and tapped it lightly against Grimmjow's. It really _was_ good wine, he thought as he drank deeply. Slightly sweet, slightly bitter, and with a very light fruity kind of aftertaste. He wondered where and when Aizen had gotten it. He did not wonder why.

They finished the third and fourth bottles with ease, and by the fifth and sixth a pleasant buzz had set in. Ulquiorra felt quite content and, for a change, didn't mind Grimmjow's company. They said little and, as a consequence, drank very quickly. Within what couldn't have been more than a couple of hours they had had nearly half a dozen bottles each, and Ulquiorra was seriously contemplating trying out the spinning chair, which Grimmjow had promised was much more fun than it looked.

"This shord inn't sharp," Grimmjow complained as he attempted to open their eleventh bottle with the hilt of his zanpakutou. Ulquiorra grabbed the sword and the bottle from the Sexto Espada's hands and stabbed the cork with far more force than necessary; it was split almost entirely in half when he pulled it out.

"Ah, thanksh, Ururuk- Urur- Urukor - ah, you," Grimmjow said, laughing and planting a very unexpected kiss on Ulquiorra's cheek. Ordinarily the Cuarto Espada would have Cero-ed Grimmjow into oblivion and then Murcielago-ed his ashes for doing such a thing, but right now it was cute, in a weird, reckless kind of way.

And he _was_ feeling reckless….

"Where do you want this box, Aizen-sama? There probably ain't a lot of room left, after Ulquiorra an' Grimmjow carted all that other stuff up here earli-… what the…."

Ichimaru stopped short at the sight of the two shirtless Espada kissing beside a large pile of empty wine bottles and a smaller pile of very-nearly-empty ones. "Uh… am I interruptin' somethin'?" he asked tentatively, as if he were afraid to hear an answer.

Grimmjow and Ulquiorra broke apart and turned toward the door, where Ichimaru was standing frozen in place holding a large box, looking very confused and slightly repulsed. Aizen stood right behind Gin, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the room.

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow simultaneously pointed their index fingers toward one another. "He did it," they said together.

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><p>Annnnd I leave the ending to your imagination! :D I hope you had as much fun reading this as I had writing it. Room and chair invented by me because I have very little doubt Aizen had a room filled with creepy things and a chair with special powers somewhere in his Hueco Mundo palace. -.-; If you want to leave a review, please do! - but bear in mind that I am well aware Grimm and Ulqui are OOC. This was meant to be crackish. xD<p> 


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